One to rule them all. | Legolas.

Chapter 4- Hiding.

As the Fellowship paused on a hillside, Gandalf's voice cut through the quiet. "We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for four days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, our road turns east toward Mordor."

Sam, ever the resourceful cook, busied himself preparing food for the group. The smell of stew filled the air, but Morwen, who had been strangely distant since the beginning of their journey, remained still, watching. The others ate, but she did not partake. Boromir was sparring with Merry and Pippin nearby, his sword flashing in the daylight as the hobbits laughed, their spirits momentarily lifted by the friendly duel. Yet, Morwen seemed on edge, her eyes fixed on something unseen.

As she stood silently, a darkness began to spread across the sky. Her hackles rose, sensing something wrong. She trotted swiftly over to Legolas, nudging his hand. The elf looked down at her with concern, and without needing to speak, he followed her gaze toward the darkening sky.

"What is that?" Sam asked, now noticing the ominous blackness swirling above them.

Morwen nudged Legolas's hand again, more insistently this time, before using her teeth to gently grasp the sleeve of his tunic, trying to pull him down. Her instinct was clear — something was coming, and it was not good.

"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud," Gimli said confidently, trying to reassure the hobbits.

But Boromir, who had moved to stand beside them, narrowed his eyes. "It's moving fast and against the wind," he observed, his voice growing more cautious.

Legolas's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Crebain from Dunland!" he shouted.

"Hide!" Aragorn commanded, his voice urgent. He quickly began trying to douse the fire as the Fellowship scattered. Sam and the hobbits dove under a bush, seeking cover, while Gandalf, Frodo, Boromir, and Gimli took shelter in a small cave. Morwen, with her sharp senses, moved swiftly, pulling Legolas behind a large rock. But when she saw Aragorn still struggling with the fire, she sprang into action. Without hesitation, she charged at him, pushing him forcefully to the ground.

Aragorn tumbled next to the still-burning fire, his face pressed into the earth, with Morwen landing on top of him, shielding him from view. The fire smoldered beneath them, its embers still crackling. Morwen felt the heat on her lower body, and the pain from the burn stung sharply, but she held back any sound, her protective instincts overriding her own discomfort.

She shifted her fur to a color matching the ground, her form blending with the terrain, to help them stay hidden from above. For long moments, the sound of wings and the screeching of the crebain filled the air, but they remained undetected. The birds circled overhead, searching, but ultimately passed on, unable to see through Morwen's careful concealment.

When the danger finally passed and the birds had gone southward, Gandalf emerged from the cave, his face grim. "Spies of Saruman!" he called out. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras."

He turned toward Morwen, his voice soft but authoritative. "You can rise off the heir now, Morwen. They have passed."

With a groan, Morwen slowly lifted herself off Aragorn, the movement causing a slight wince of pain as she straightened. Aragorn, now free, pushed himself to his feet. "Thank you, Morwen," he said, looking at her with gratitude, though she still appeared shrouded in the dirt-colored fur she had used to conceal them.

Boromir, who had been watching from the side, spoke up. "She is hurt," he said, his voice taking on a note of concern as he approached the wolf.

The moment Morwen noticed Boromir drawing near, she let out a low, warning growl. The sound was enough to send a chill through the group. The tension was palpable, and Morwen instinctively stepped away from him, still growling, her red eyes fixed on the man. Aragorn, who had been so close to her moments ago, was spared from her warning, but she kept her distance from Boromir, who was now hesitant.

"You need to let us look at your injury, Morwen," Boromir said, his voice firm but gentle, as he tried to approach again.

Morwen growled even louder, her protective instincts flaring. The hobbits, who had been whispering among themselves, stopped and turned their attention to the confrontation. They watched in silence as Legolas, noticing the tension, moved to Morwen's side.

He knelt beside her, stroking her fur gently. The moment his hand made contact, the growling ceased. Morwen turned to him, her angry eyes softening slightly. "You must let me look at your injury, Morwen, in case it is serious," Legolas said quietly.

Morwen did not move at first, but she regarded him intently. After a long pause, she allowed him to examine her stomach, where the burn from the fire had marred her fur. "It is minor," Legolas reassured her, his voice calm. "With your enhanced healing, it should take only hours."

When he finally pulled away, Morwen gave him a cold, steady gaze. She then walked over to the hobbits, who immediately offered her strokes of comfort on her head. They did not hesitate, their touch gentle as they offered her silent reassurance.

"Why does she shy away from us but not him?" Boromir asked, his voice sharp with curiosity, his gaze fixed on Legolas.

"She has been through great cruelty at the hands of men," Gandalf replied, his voice somber. "She did not wish to come on this mission, but under her promise, she came."

Gandalf then moved toward Morwen, his tone quiet and solemn. "Morwen," he said, looking around to ensure no one was listening, "do you not believe your human form would now more easily help you to move? Just until you have healed?"

Morwen slowly shook her head, her expression thoughtful but resolute. Gandalf sighed, nodding in understanding, though a shadow of concern crossed his face.

As the others mounted their horses, Morwen, still bearing the weight of her injury, took a different path. She carried only two of the hobbits now, while Aragorn, Legolas, and the others rode their own steeds. They set off toward the Pass of Caradhras, the wind biting and the mountains looming ahead, their journey still fraught with peril.